


Zero Tolerance

by HalfASlug



Series: Found My Place [12]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6712378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfASlug/pseuds/HalfASlug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For most Broadchurch residents, Joe Miller is a distant memory. When the burglar alarm goes off one night in the house he used to call home, it proves that he still lurks in the shadows for some of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zero Tolerance

_If that worm didn’t give her back her bloody flip flop she was going to strangle it._

Ellie woke with a start that had nothing to do invertebrates or footwear. It took her a split second to shake away the remnants of her dream before she registered that a jarring siren was sounding through her house. She lifted her head from her pillow and looked around her bedroom, half-expecting to find the cause.

It was then she realised what was happening.

The burglar alarm.

“Shit!” Throwing the covers back, she almost fell out of bed in her haste to get up. When she righted herself, she heard a sharp intake of breath from behind her as Hardy finally woke up.

“Wha-?”

“Stay here. Someone’s in the house!” she whispered into the dark. It wasn’t until she said it that the implications truly dawned on her.

Someone was in her home in the dead of night.

Years of police training were kicking in, keeping her calm as she moved towards the door, but she was a mother as well. Between her and the ground floor were her children. There was an obvious conclusion to jump to about who it was that had set the alarm off, one she was desperately trying to avoid.

It didn’t stop his name crossing her mind as she hurried down the steep stairs to the first floor and saw both the bedroom doors were closed. After all, there was only one other person who would reach the same level of desperation when it came to her boys.

_Well_ , she thought as she crept towards Tom’s room, _she’d like to see him try._

Straining her ears, she could only make out the faint noise of Hardy moving around in the bedroom. She gently pushed Tom’s door open and was relieved to see that, apart from the miraculously sleeping lump on the bed, there was no one in there. As she crept towards the corner, she stood on something sharp and swore under her breath. How hard was it for him to keep his room tidy?

“Mum?” Tom croaked. He lifted the cover off his head and squinted at her. “Wassgoinon? What’s the noise?”

“Nothing, love,” she whispered. “Just getting your cricket bat.”

“What?”

She emerged from Tom’s room to see Hardy on the landing, wearing nothing but pyjama bottoms and his reading glasses. Even with the alarm screaming at her and the dim light, she still took a moment to be grateful that this was something she got to see on a semi-regular basis.

As he approached her, she noticed he was scowling. Although, with Hardy, that was like noticing he was walking on his hind legs.

“Fuck have you got a cricket bat for?” he hissed at her.

“Fancied a game. You got your pads?”

“Seriously, Miller-”

“I’m not taking advice from the bloke who heard the alarm and grabbed his _glasses_.”

“Oh and what could I have done blind? Arrest a blur that’s either a burglar or the fridge?”

Ellie turned on her heel and stomped towards the stairs. She was already on edge and arguing with him while he looked so ridiculous wasn’t going to help. Part of her reasoned that she probably didn’t look much more sensible in her nightie and wielding a cricket bat, but at least her response time was adequate.

Her foot had barely touched the first stair when his hand gripped her shoulder. Before he had chance to speak she’d cut him off.

“This is my house. Those are my kids. If that bastard thinks he can-”

“It’s probably not be him,” Hardy said, holding her when she tried to break from his grip. Not for the first time, she leveled him with a glare that he met with an assured calm that usually placated her.  

Not that she ever let him know that. In fact it was irritating how he was probably right. Even if Joe did lose his mind and think he could take her boys, he would never attempt it if he knew she was in the same building.

It didn’t change that someone had broken into her home. Her family had been through enough and it made her less than tolerant of potential threats to the happiness they had managed to rebuild.

“I’m still thumping whoever it is,” she told him stubbornly and marched down the stairs.

“All right, Tony Martin,” Hardy whispered as he followed her, “just let me have the bat.”

“No. You’re Scottish. You won’t know how to use it.”

The quietest argument they’d ever had ended when they reached the last few stairs. Not because they had ran out of things to say, but because they were both listening out for signs that the intruder was still around. The front door looked intact, but that didn’t rule out forced entry through the back door or any of the windows. If it was just just a thief who had unfortunately chosen the house of the police officers, then they would likely have ran out the moment the alarm went off.

Someone more determined might be hiding out, hoping to overpower her, not realising there would be another adult.

She gripped the bat tighter. After all, the last time there had been any kind of showdown between Hardy and Joe, it was the former that nearly died. His heart wouldn’t give out on him now, but she’d since seen him pick a fight with a tin opener and lose.

“ _Turn the alarm off,_ ” she mouthed, nodding at the white box by the coat hooks.

Hardy approached it, flipped the cover over the control pad and turned back to her with a shrug. Ellie reminded herself that it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know the code and she shouldn’t hit him with the cricket bat, even if it was only a gentle tap.

“ _It’s my birthday._ ”

She remembered having it installed and the bloke suggesting they use something for the code that they’d remember easily, like a birthday. Joe had scoffed at how easily that could be guessed and dismissed it straight away. 

He was right, of course, but it just meant it would be the last thing he’d guess and there was no one she wanted to keep out of her home more.

Hardy nodded and turned back to the panel. His fingers hovered over the buttons for a moment.

“For fuck’s-” She elbowed him out the way and jabbed the code in with far more aggression than was probably warranted.

Afterwards she scowled at him.

“I know now, don’t I?”

The house was oddly empty without the constant noise of the alarm. Rather than settle her, it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. It was as though the silence pressing against them.

They both stepped forward and Hardy flicked the light switch.

There was still no noise, nothing out of place. Maybe it had been thieves who had scarpered after all?

Or someone who had been waiting for her?

The horrid thought had barely taken shape in her mind when she saw something move in the kitchen.

Ellie whirled around, ready to beat seven shades of shit out of anyone who came near her.

“Hi.”

Under the kitchen table, his hands clamped over his ears, was Fred.

“Fred!” cried Hardy as she dropped the bat to her side. “What are you doing up?”

“Breakie!”

“It’s not breakfast yet, mate.”

Heart still hammering against her ribs, Ellie rushed forward and knelt beside the table. “Come out of there, you silly sausage.”

Gradually, he lowered his hands and crawled towards her. Ellie dropped the bat in order to scoop him up in a tight hug. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Breakie!”

With a sigh, Hardy crouched down next to her. “Fred, it’s three AM.”

“Wassat?”

“It’s a time in the morning when we’re supposed to be asleep.”

“But… breakie.”

“Breakfast isn’t for another four and a half hours yet, okay? We all need more sleep.”

Fred nodded as though he understood exactly what Hardy had told him. Ellie sighed as she stood up. Less than a year ago, the man struggled to remember Fred’s name. Now he had reached such a level of hero worship in her son’s eyes that it was as though they had a psychic bond.

They all stood and Ellie passed Fred over to Hardy. He immediately clung to his neck with one arm and tried to take his glasses with the other.

“I’ll start making some Ready Brek for the little mister,” she sighed, trying to prevent Fred poking Hardy in the eye. “You try and get him back to bed.”

She didn’t quite catch his reply as it came mid-yawn, but she kissed him on the cheek anyway. He ambled into the living room, her youngest babbling in broken English against his shoulder, and Ellie wished she could have known this was a possible ending to the tragedy her life was a year ago.

Maybe not _who_ the ending would be with back then as she’d have laughed so hard she’d have broken something, but the general sense of home and well-being would have been nice.

“You should stay in bed, wee man.”

“Sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter now. You want me to read you a story?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled when they disappeared into the living room and out of sight. Now that the adrenaline from when she’d woken up was fading away, her muscles were protesting over being used, but she fetched the box from cupboard regardless. At least if Hardy couldn’t get him back to sleep, then he could have some food before they tried again.

Ten minutes later, Hardy emerged from the living room with a toddler dozing in his arms.

“Are you eating that?” he whispered with disgust.

Ellie glanced down at the cooling bowl of chocolate Ready Brek she was picking at.

“What? I never get to eat it normally.”

“It looks like liquid shit.”

She pointedly shoveled a large spoonful into her mouth with a grin. “It tastes scrummy.”

Hardy shook his head and headed towards the stairs with Fred. “I’m not arguing with you when you’ve still got that cricket bat.”

Ellie chuckled and patted the bat fondly. She was sure she’d get in trouble if she took it to work with her, but she could probably find use for it around the house occasionally.

There was another spoon of porridge in her mouth when she looked up to see Hardy was in the doorway again. She hastily swallowed it and shot him a questioning look, still wary of waking Fred up.

“He isn’t coming back,” he told her softly.

“He could.” She had tried to make it sound like a throwaway comment, like she’d almost welcome his return just to prove how completely unbothered she was about his existence. However, it had been a long time since she could keep her emotions in control around Hardy and every ounce of fear and anger managed to end up in two syllables.

Hardy approached her slowly, holding her gaze the entire time. When he was reached her, she placed her hand on his hip without realising what she was doing and bent to kiss her forehead.

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. His presence had been a comfort long before she wanted it to be. Whether they were driving to Sandbrook in silence or bickering in Asda, just him being there meant someone strong was willing to brave the storm with her. It meant more than she could ever tell him.

“He won’t. Not like this, anyway” he said, looking around the brightly lit kitchen. “But if, one day, he does crawl back, they’ll be safe, yeah? We’ll make sure of that.”

Ellie nodded, blinking back tears and pressing her lips together.

He kissed her again and stood up straight. “Finish that horse shit then come back to bed.”

Unable to speak, she watched him go, feeling safer than she had done in a long time.


End file.
